The Exchange
Introduction “Yes, I have my passport.” I reassured my mum for about the thousandth time as she kissed me on the head wishing me luck and telling me to have a good time. I was relieved to walk through the sliding doors into the terminal at Heathrow to the sight of all my friends. Our flight was leaving in three hours: plenty of time to go round the shops with them and generally have fun. We were going to Spain, on a Spanish exchange with our school. “Ah, Zach, could I have a word?” came the...